


Mile High

by PrettyMessedUpSituation (MarcelinesNightosphere)



Series: Things I'm Angry About [5]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bottom Jensen, Drunkenness, Friends With Benefits, Kissing, M/M, Nervousness, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Supernatural Convention, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4924420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinesNightosphere/pseuds/PrettyMessedUpSituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rob gets invited up to Jensen's room to hang out with him and Misha. An interesting night ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mile High

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mnwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnwood/gifts).



> Based on [this ask ](http://unacceptablecockles.tumblr.com/post/130356054481/im-giggling-now-cause-im-imagining-jensen-and) which ruined my life.  
> For [Madd](http://www.deancasheadcanons.tumblr.com) who literally bribed me to stop school work and write this.  
> Another a/n as requested by [Dani](http://www.yoursoulisevergreen.tumblr.com) -  
> Sorry this took so long to write, but I was kind of busy riding a dick.  
> Rebloggable version [here](http://unacceptablecockles.tumblr.com/post/130420509486/mile-high).

It was the perfect song for the night; Jensen was absolutely certain of it when he set it up with Rob.

Dinner had consisted of less food than alcohol, but it had been a couple of hours, so everyone had settled into a nice warm buzz instead of bumping noisily into tables. Now that they were about to be on stage, they had a slight handle on things. Or so they thought.

Nobody seemed to remember to tell them that at this altitude, getting drunk within the first couple of days after you arrive is a bad idea. They found out the correlation between their seemingly increased intoxication after dinner a little too late - the dizziness from not letting their bodies adjust to the Mile High City plus the whisky and beer had them reeling a bit harder than they intended to get before the Saturday night concert. Someone made mention of Clif getting altitude sickness and being in his room lying down, down and out for the night, while Jared was nearly in a similar situation. Jensen joked it was because of the extra few inches higher he was than the rest of them. Rob listened as he told the joke, knowing that he left out the part where Rob had given him some Tylenol and Jensen made him drink two bottles of water before they left him to sleep while they joined everyone for drinks.

The apple juice was still flowing, just at a slower rate than earlier. Rob introduced Jensen on the stage to thundering applause. The band started the opening to “You Shook Me All Night Long” and Jensen, still loose from the liquid courage, sang with Rob. Or, by the looks of it, maybe _to_ him. He wasn’t supposed to sing this one, but he jumped in, staring Rob down intensely. Rob kept shaking his head with a laugh, blushing and backing up when Jensen leaned closer, the two practically screaming the chorus together into the mic.

Jensen brought it down a notch after the song ended, but was still amped up. Rob saw how this had come to be his element, a way to be himself, and explosively so, rather than how reserved he’d been in the past. He wiped his face with his shirt, eliciting screams from fans who had caught a glimpse of his hips and stomach.

“Again, Ackles?” a booming voice said over the loudspeaker.

Jen laughed and wiped his face with his hand. “Well, it’s the first Denver show ever and it’ll be a while until there’s another one, so give ‘em everything we got, right?” Everyone clapped and cheered, the noise growing louder when Misha came out, talking aside to a crew member who handed him a mic. “Mish, what are you doing up so late?”

“I...don’t know why I’m here,” Misha admitted. “But since I _am_ here, maybe we should Magic Mike it up?”

The crowd was deafening. Rob laughed and just watched the scene.

“No, no buddy. Matt’s the stripper.”

“Yeah, for charity. You on the other hand give glimpses for free. You’re a skin-kink drug dealer,” Misha said, retrieving drinks from someone at the front of the stage and handing Jen and Rob another beer.

“I’m a _what?”_

Misha laughed. “It’s okay, Jen. Stay safe in your vanilla life. Don’t come join the rest of us in the gutter.”

“Vanilla, huh?” Jensen repeated in a huff, barely audible but catching the mic. He cast a look at Misha, his eyebrow cocked. Misha blushed and dropped his head to hide his smile.

Rob cleared his throat. “So what song are we singing tonight, Jen?”

Jensen took a long swig of his beer. “Let’s get a little Guns N’ Roses going up in this joint. ‘Sweet Child O’Mine’.”

The band started playing and Jensen was front and center. He turned to Rob and then to Misha a step back from the mic and asked, “You guys my backup?”

Rob and Misha nodded. “You got it.”

Jensen sang the first verse with heartfelt distraction.

> _She's got a smile it seems to me_
> 
> _Reminds me of childhood memories_
> 
> _Where everything_
> 
> _Was as fresh as the bright blue sky_

Misha half-danced his way over to Rob awkwardly so they could share a mic. Meanwhile Jensen was lost in his rock and roll fantasy.

> _Now and then when I see her face_
> 
> _She takes me away to that special place_
> 
> _And if I'd stare too long_
> 
> _I'd probably break down and cry_

“Don’t cry Jensen,” Rich breathed into a mic from somewhere behind the stage.

Jensen made a terribly unattractive fake-crying face and stepped over to his backup. Misha and Rob leaned together into Jensen’s mic and sang the chorus, the extended _whoa_ ’s and _sweet child of mine_ ’s accompanied by broad smiles. Jensen stared at Rob’s face, bent over so he could be eye to eye while Rob played the bridge before the second verse. Jensen pressed his forehead to Rob’s and grinned, then returned to the mic. It wasn’t fair, Rob would often say, to have that man taunt them with his talent and looks. A joke, teasing for sure. But sometimes he thought...and then he’d shake those thoughts from his head. Nevermind. He’s not that adventurous.

Jensen switched places with Misha on stage, moving toward the front while Misha slid over to Rob, who upon welcoming his friend with a beer in hand, cradled Rob’s face in his hand, pulled it back, and gave him a kiss. This wasn’t odd behavior for Misha, but this time Rob was taken a little aback because he kissed him directly on his mouth. And there... _was there a little tongue?_ Rob was a bit shaken and suddenly felt like this evening was not going to go as planned, which was supposed to be: have a drink at bar with Rich, return to lonely room, shower, bed, fall asleep to the noises of shitty shows on TBS.

Jensen started in on the second verse, where, with one slip up, he inadvertently changed any preconceived notions of how this night was going to go.

> _He's got eyes of the bluest skies_
> 
> _As if they thought of rain_

“Di-did he say he?” Rob whispered to Misha. Misha’s eyes were wide and locked onto Jen, but Jensen continued on, singing to Misha without realizing what he’d said.

> _I hate to look into those eyes_
> 
> _And see an ounce of pain_

He moved over to Rob and Misha and ran his hand over Rob’s hair and beard, joking. He was joking, right?

> _His hair reminds me of a warm safe place_
> 
> _Where as a child I'd hide_
> 
> _And pray for the thunder_
> 
> _And the rain_
> 
> _To quietly pass me by_

 

Of course unbeknownst to Jensen, the audience was abuzz, but Rob could feel it. It would have been impossible that not one of the fans in the audience caught that. Rob could picture the twitter conversations now -

_“He’d said he’s got the eyes of the bluest skies!”_

_“He was talking about Misha.” “Um, obviously.”_

_“He stroked Rob’s hair? What was that about?”_

_“Oh nothing guys, he’s just drunk. Let him have his fun.”_

_“Are we going to ignore Misha kissing Rob and the forehead touch or...?”_

 

They continued on with the song, belting out the chorus, heatedly staring at each other during the _where do we go now_ ’s. Rob was trying to figure out the other’s intentions and where they were going with this. He could feel the tension on stage. Or was that just another altitude thing? When the song ended, Jensen had to leave, which coincidentally, Misha did too. Rob still had at least one song to play and then he was calling it quits. He waved the two off stage, blushing. Misha ran back up to him and whispered in his ear, “Meet us in Jen’s room right after.”

That never happened.

Not that it didn’t happen that night, but that _that_ , the going up and hanging out in Jen’s room on a Saturday night, _that_ never happened before, not the night before Jensen and Jared’s panel. Rob finished his set and they got everything settled. He had a beer with Rich in the bar and both retired for the night. But instead of heading to his own room, he knocked on Jensen’s door.

This was nerve-wrecking. Yeah, they were friends, but it still sometimes felt like the coolest kid at school being the friend of the dorky guy in the band, like how friendly were they? Should he have brought more beer? The door opened and interrupted his endless tirade of confused weighing the scales of where he was in this friend dynamic.

“Get in here. Took you forever. Almost started without you.”

“Started what, exactly?” Rob asked Misha as he walked in the door.

Misha shut and locked the door, then reopened it to hang the Do Not Disturb sign, then closed and relocked it. “I have fun stuff. For eating.”

“What?”

“Edibles,” Jensen called from deeper inside the room. “Apparently these things have...something...they get you really high. And no smoking, which is a problem for you, right?”

“Yeah, but guys -”

Jensen shrugged. “Yeah but what? We’re in Colorado. It’s all completely legal.”

Rob was shocked. “Jensen? Really?”

Misha smiled. “Yeah I did all the convincing and now he’s game to try a little on the premise that we never ever talk about it again. And he’s a little drunk. But look what I found,” Misha said as he turned back into the room, excited like a child wanting to show their dad how well his birdseed peanut butter pinecone came out. He started to hand Rob a bag but then put it behind his back. “Hold out your hand, palm up.”

“Is this some weird ass trust exercise?” Rob asked. “Because I can tell both of you now, I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you.” Misha gave him puppydog eyes. Rob heaved a sigh. “Sure, okay, fine.” His hand was held out in front of him palm up and waiting stilly. An object was placed in his hand, hard but not, heavy but not, definitely a food-type product.

“Open.”

“What is this?” Rob asked.

“Chocolate truffle. Of which I advise you only eat half. Or maybe half of the half.”

“So we’re gonna get high?” His voice warbled with nervousness.

“Yeah. You ever eat edibles?”

“Of course. Why are we cutting these down so much though?”

“150mg THC each.”

“Nice!” Rob relaxed. This could be fun. The three of them would probably wind up flat on their backs staring at the ceiling talking about god knows what until they fell asleep. That’s a pretty mild night.

They each started with a quarter, and forty minutes later took another piece. It was supposed to take an hour or so to kick in, so Misha sat on the bed, Jensen on the chair with his feet kicked up on the ottoman, and Rob at the desk chair, waiting patiently. They ordered a pizza, talking about the weekend as they ate and drank a beer, slowly this time. When Misha and Jensen talked about how fun the concert was, Rob didn’t want to bring it up, but he had to.

“Hey, Jensen, did you realize you said _‘he’_ s got eyes of the bluest skies’ when you were singing? Emphasis on _he_.”

“I did?” Jensen looked horrified. “No way.”

“You did,” Misha confirmed. “You stared at me and sang _he’s got eyes of the bluest skies_ and of how terrible it would be to see these eyes sad and hurting.” He leaned against Jensen sweetly. "It was lovely, honestly."

“Shit.” Jensen covered his face with his hands. “There’s no coming back from that one, is there?”

“Well when you sang  _his hair reminds me of a safe warm place_ you were fucking with my hair and not Misha’s, so maybe the focus won’t be completely on the Misha thing.” Rob thought for a moment. “But the focus is totally going to be on the Misha thing.”

Misha shrugged. “It was going to happen sooner or later.”

“Yeah but _fuck_ , Mish. I’m such a dumbass.”

“Wait, what was going to happen sooner or later?” Rob asked, his eyes darted between the two.

Misha’s smile broke into a half-laugh and Jensen leaned back against the couch and pretended to fall asleep. Misha kicked his foot and Jensen smiled, still not opening his eyes or lifting his head.

“Are you guys....no. What? Really?” Rob was near squeaking, looking back and forth between them, Jensen finally opening his eyes, smiling his confirmation. “For how long? Do your wives know? Does Jared know?”

“Jared is iffy. We’ve never said anything explicitly to him, but he doesn’t care. He just likes how happy Jen is. We each give him a different kind of friendship,” Misha explained. “And my wife -”

“Yeah I figure your wife would be cool with it, but what about Danneel? Does she know?”

“Yeah,” Jensen said. “Sometimes she’s...an active participant.”

Rob covered his mouth and then immediately ran his hands through his hair, leaning back and exhaling dramatically. “That’s...a lot of information.”

“What, you don’t let your hair down? Sow your wild oats?” Misha asked.

“I’m forty-five Misha. I’m pulling a Murtaugh.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m too old for this shit.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t even know...I couldn’t even ask someone if I could buy them a drink. How would I approach someone about a threesome or swinging or whatever?”

“Ask them over and offer them chocolate truffles infused with THC.”

Rob sat blankly in the chair. He was sure his blood had run cold. Maybe...maybe the truffle was kicking in. Misha and Jensen looked as if they were feeling it too. “I...uh….”

“We’re just here. In full confidence. Whatever happens in Denver, stays in Denver,” Misha promised.

“Oh my God. Mish. Rob. I’ve never done this. Is it supposed to feel like this?” Jensen asked. He lifted his hand up and stared at it.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Misha said. “I’m going to get him a bottle of water. Or a bunch for us, because we’ll probably need it. Will you help him? I'll be right back.”

Rob stood up and felt woozy. A good woozy. He smiled and reached his arm out to Jensen, who after two tries finally grasped him and let Rob pull him up. Rob settled him onto the bed in a half-sitting, half-lying down position so he could still drink water but wouldn’t get so dizzy until he hopefully acclimated to the high. Jensen patted the bed next to him.

“Come sit. Join me.”

Rob’s stomach twisted with nerves. He took a deep breath and blushed, feeling like an idiot crawling up on the bed to sit next to Jensen. He leaned back against the headboard, sitting up higher to be on Jensen’s level. He looked over at Jensen and Jensen stared back, his eyes sparkling and starting to squint. He smiled brightly.

God those truffles were nice.

“Rob I’m gonna kiss you, if that’s okay,” Jensen said with a drawl, half-Texan, half-intoxicated. “I bet it would be...exceptionally nice.”

Rob laughed nervously. “Ah-ha-ha. Okay.” In his mind he could see himself, wide eyed and frazzled, a look of sheer panic on his face.

Jensen leaned over and kissed him, his lips barely grazing him at first. He made little noises that were hotter than necessary. Rob’s insides were buzzing with anxiousness; other people got butterflies, but this felt more like a hornet’s nest fluttering in his stomach. Jensen kissed him deeper, slow and soft, licking into his mouth with patience. _Fuck it_ , Rob thought as he let himself fall into the kiss.

* * *

 

“Ahem,” came the throaty call. Rob’s lips felt raw from kissing. Everything felt as if it were in slow motion, the kissing, the hands moving over clothes - it was pretty fucking amazing. “Guys!” the voice broke in again. Rob pulled away from Jensen and they looked over to see Misha sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed, naked. “I’m bored!” he shouted, leaning toward them with wild eyes.

“Misha what the fuck,” Rob said with a laugh.

“You guys have been doing this for over forty fucking minutes.”

“When did you get here?” Jensen asked.

“Forty fucking minutes ago.”

“When did you get naked?” Rob asked.

“Twenty fucking minutes ago.”

“Well come here,” Jensen said, reaching up and grabbing Misha’s hand, pulling him until he was forced to move toward the head of the bed.

Rob moved out of the way, a bit horrified at having Misha’s naked body sliding between him and Jensen, then even more horrified feeling like a third wheel watching Misha and Jensen kiss. Fuck it was hot. Jensen’s noises were too much, amplified as he confidently kissed Misha. He obviously felt at home with him, moving quicker and kissing harder. Misha broke off the kiss and moved over Rob.

“Hey hey what’s up Misha?” Rob asked, his heart beating like a hummingbird in his chest.

“Stop being so nervous. I’m the one exposed here,” Misha said. His eyes moved over Rob’s face before he smiled and dipped his head down to kiss him. Misha’s lips were full and taught, so different from Jensen’s, but the kiss was just as gentle. Misha spent time trying to relax Rob, lightly caressing his face, his thumb crossing his cheek. Rob felt a hand undo his belt. The buckle clanked against a ring and then a hand slipped down his pants. He burst out into nervous laughter. “Oh god guys, I don’t...I don’t know if I can do this.” He could feel his face burning red with embarrassment.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can slow it down or stop. Whatever makes you comfortable,” Misha said. His face was full of concern. “It’s just me though. Seriously. Well, Jensen too, but I can vouch for him.” His smile was reassuring.

“No I’m just...I’m...I…” Rob stammered.

“Please you should have seen Jensen.”

“Really?” Rob asked. He looked toward Jensen for confirmation. Jensen nodded.

“I was a mess. Grade A.”

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“He called Danneel. And then cried.”

Jensen smacked Misha’s chest. “I did fucking not, you asshole.” Then he thought and recanted a bit. “I didn’t cry. I did call Danneel.”

Misha looked at the clock. “Fuck, if we’re going to do anything at all, we better do it before the next piece of truffle kicks in and we’re catatonic.”

“H-how does this work?” Rob asked.

“Just relax,” Misha cooed. He leaned over Jensen again and kissed him, his breath rapidly quickening as he pressed against Jensen through his jeans. Rob glanced down and saw Misha’s cock harden.

Rob jumped when Jensen’s hand slipped down his pants again, but relaxed as another high washed over him. Misha moved and left the bed for a moment and Jensen sat up and blushed as he pulled down his pants just to his knees and moved in between Rob’s legs. Rob wasn’t sure what was going on, but a second later Jen was tugging down Rob’s jeans.

Never in a thousand years would Rob have thought this was in the realm of possibility. Jensen of all people. Now here he was, feeling Jensen’s breath on his thighs, those freckled cheeks blushing while those hands stroked his cock and thigh, while those lips parted and took him in his mouth. He moaned. His head fell back on the bed and he took in the sensation. His head was spinning and he could barely move. But he didn’t need to. Suddenly the pace and technique changed and he looked down to see Misha’s lips wrapped around his cock, his blue eyes looking up at him, a wry smile lurking in the corners of his lips as he kissed the tip of Rob’s cock. Misha’s mouth dropped back over, taking all of Rob in, making his eyes flutter. _Holy shit_ , he thought, his head, his entire body feeling dazed from the high.

Misha’s mouth left him. Jensen returned, hovering over Rob's face, blushing harder this time. Rob tilted his head up and Jensen nervously kissed him as soft and gentle, but with a timidity that wasn’t there before.

“Are you okay?” he whispered as Jensen moved back down toward his cock.

“I’m...it’s nothing.”

Rob saw Misha behind Jensen and heard the unmistakable sound of a condom. “Oh. _Oh_.” Jensen was embarrassed because Misha was about to fuck him while he blew Rob. Okay. That made sense.

Rob lost all thought when Jensen’s mouth was back on him. He shoved a pillow behind his head so he could watch, mostly from curiosity, Misha pushing into Jensen while Jensen sucked Rob’s cock. _This...is not a mild night_ , he thought. But it kind of _was_. He watched Jensen get too worked up to be able to continue, stroking Rob when he was too overcome to do anything but move his hand and press his forehead into Rob’s stomach, his lips brushing Rob’s skin as he moaned. Misha’s hand gripped Jensen’s shoulder, pulling him back as he rolled his hips. Rob just smiled and crossed his hands over his chest, enjoying the high. The second piece of truffle was kicking in, and he was content in not moving at all. Jensen’s breath hitched as he drew closer, returning his mouth to Rob, bobbing and sucking with a newfound intensity, hitting the point where he was so close to coming that there was no nervousness or shame. Jensen moaned around Rob’s cock, sending a wave of pleasure through Rob. He gripped the sheets, trying and failing to stop himself from gripping Jensen’s hair.

And then it was over. They came, they moaned, they nearly passed out. Misha’s legs shook, Jensen was a mess, and Rob was just glad to be lying down. Misha pulled Jensen up and into the bathroom.

“Baby giraffe legs,” Rob said and exploded with laughter.

“Shut up Rob,” Jensen said, pointing at him threateningly, trying to maintain his balance while he hobbled to the bathroom like a newborn deer.

Just a few minutes after the water for the shower had turned on, it was off again. Misha and a wet Jensen flopped down on the bed on either side of Rob, all three staring at the ceiling.

“So truffles are nice,” Rob said.

Jensen exhaled. “So nice.”

“I can’t move.”

Misha smiled. “Good. Let’s just lie here.”

“We should have done this outside,” Jensen said, his voice slow and slightly slurred, “so we could see the stars.”

“It’s November. It’s snowing. That’s a terrible idea,” Misha responded.

“Point. Good one.”

The three stared at the ceiling until one by one they fell asleep. Rob stared at the TV remote, but couldn’t move to get it. _All for the best_ , he thought, his shoulders pressed against Misha and Jensen’s. _This is much better than falling asleep to TBS._

 


End file.
